De Profundis

Context

I’ve been thinking a lot about darkness lately—about the long polar night I may one day enter if I choose to overwinter in the Arctic.

People imagine darkness as a threat, a void, a place to avoid. But there is no light without darkness. Day and night. Winter and Summer. Life and death.

We all experience darkness. We can close our eyes and pretend we don’t see it. Or we can scrutinize it.

The polar night brought back a text I wrote in 1991 while living in Vanuatu. I think it was a response to a letter from my mother wishing I was happier. I kept this text to myself until today. My mother can’t read it anymore; but I suspect this might have resonated with her if I had the courage to share it with her when she could.

De Profundis

I recognize this night.

I remember having lived in this darkness.

Not so long ago, I had learned to become nocturnal, to transform myself into a creature of the night. Deep within me, I once found enough energy to produce a faint luminescence. It was so faint that one had to have forgotten even the memory of light to perceive the glow that emanated from my heart.

Diving into the heart of the night; embracing the darkness in order to become capable of seeing the light again.

The light is not behind the closed door of my room.

The light is not behind the horizon where the lighthouse stands.

No.

The light is within me.

I am like those deep-sea creatures the sun never reaches.

Deprived of its rays, they carry within them a small arsenal that allows them to shine in the great depths. It is said that their glow is their language. They communicate with their kind through their fading luminescence.

“I glow, therefore I grow.”

The beings who live on the surface cannot understand.

The superficial beings who need the sun’s brilliance to reassure them can’t imagine the multitude of beings who know no other world than the dark depths.

The creatures of the deep, however, can imagine the sun, for they carry its trace in their flesh.

I am a creature of the depths.

I carry within me the trace of a light that comes from elsewhere.

Postscript

Overwintering in the Arctic must be a transformational experience. Accepting to be trapped in ice for six dark and cold months is an expression of faith. I hope I will have the opportunity to live this transformation and the courage to accept the invitation.

Perhaps the polar night is not a darkness to fear, but a depth necessary to rediscover the light we all carry within us. The polar night is a place to shine.